i have always been afraid of what it means to forgive
by champion lyra
Summary: He could not forgive himself; thus, it was unreasonable to expect others to grant him that same forgiveness. —RyokenYusaku, DataStormShipping. Angst with a happy ending.


**Notes**

Hello and welcome to Mitzi's latest full-on obsession. I binged VRAINS back between Halloween and the first week of November, and have been watching it weekly since. DataStormShipping is my new OTP, and I mean seriously OTP the last time I shipped something this hard was Kacchako... so I'll likely write for them... a lot. I have a few other things that I've been working on for them, so we'll see if I like those enough to post them when I'm finished.

 **Be warned, there are spoilers, up to episode 84 and spoilers from the next few episode previews.** If you want to go into the next few episodes blind, I'd steer clear of this until episode 87 (I believe!) airs.

That being said - I wrote this entirely for the last paragraph, lmao. I've noticed during my few attempts at writing Ryoken before it usually comes out, uh, mostly as him angsting over something or another, so that's what the majority of this is. Tbh there's.. very little datastorm in this, oops. I hope you guys enjoy anyways!

* * *

When he was eight years old, Ryoken's father started an experiment. An experiment, he was told, that would help keep people alive forever. That would help them all grow. He couldn't remember his mother, but he was told she would've been proud of his father, so he was proud of his father too.

The screams were just a byproduct of the experiments, Ryoken was told. It was a necessary evil to find out how to help all the other people and kids just like him. And yet, and yet…

Ryoken couldn't help but shudder, tears pricking the corners of his eyes. He had barely even seen his father in the last four months; his father focused solely on the important experiments. But something about them wasn't right - the kids sounded like they were in so much pain. If this was supposed to help them, Ryoken wondered, then why were they so hurt?

It was one night when his father had went out to his normal job, when Ryoken quietly crept into the lab. On the screen, he saw something horrifying:

Six different rooms, six different children, crying and shaking and getting _electrocuted_ -

Scrambling, Ryoken reached for the headset. He didn't know why, he didn't know what he was going to say but he had to say _something_ after watching the very child he had brought back here fall to the ground limply, looking like he'd never get up again. He didn't even know if it was connected, or how to work it, but he had to _try_. He clicked on the screen that showed the boy, highlighting it, and tried speaking, hoping for the best.

"Get up," he spoke, doing his best to sound as calm as possible. When he was scared, he knew, he preferred soft voices, after all.

Instantly, at the sound of another voice, the boy perked up slightly. "Who is it?" His voice was rough from disuse, and Ryoken gulped painfully at the sound.

In his head, he ran through a million different things he could say, but he knew he didn't have much time. He had to make it count. "Three," he decided on. "Think of three things." Ryoken watched the screen as the boy removed the VR headset from his eyes. They were so green-

"Three things to live," Ryoken continued, cutting his thoughts short. "Three things to go home. Three things to defeat the enemy. By thinking, you can still live."

* * *

That night, he did his best to pretend that the screams weren't bothering him. He had tried to help - hoped he helped, and his father had told him how important this all was.

For two months, he managed. For two months, he would only break down at night, covering his ears as tears leaked freely out of his eyes.

When his father was out next, he called the police, having no idea what would happen.

* * *

When his father didn't come home, the guilt that had been pooling up in his stomach since he brought that boy home just grew, and grew, and grew. His father, nearly dead; those children, forever traumatized from the half a year they spent in torture chambers.

Ryoken couldn't decide which hurt worse.

* * *

i have always been afraid of what it means to forgive

* * *

Ryoken has not gone home since the last time he and Playmaker dueled, barring hearts and desperation to each other - to the world, via cameras - and nor has he wanted to. _Home_ was a hard word, already; and the place where his father's heart had given out was not somewhere Ryoken was comfortable returning to, quite yet. There was anguish, mixed with regret and remorse, mixed with irritation and confusion.

Had his father been wrong? Every time Ryoken looked at Yusaku, listened to the banter between him and the Dark Ignis he called Ai, Ryoken wondered. _Evil,_ he had been taught to believe from such a young age. The Ignis were evil, they would destroy humanity. His father's hubris and greed for immortality had only served to be the destruction of their kind, despite having believed it was the path to life for so long.

Ryoken wondered, sometimes, if the Ignis were more like people than his father had ever dreamed.

It was telling, in some ways, that his father's simulations had explained that humans were the problem - that humans wouldn't let another species overtake them so easily, so carelessly. He wondered, sometimes, if his father's desire to stop the Ignis from overpowering people is what caused the Light Ignis and Wind Ignis to act out in the ways that they did. Wondered if they had just left them alone, would they truly have remained a peaceful species, content to be left to their own devices for eternity.

Ryoken wondered, a lot.

* * *

Despite all this - despite the unending questions, the doubt he would ever answer them - Ryoken could not understand how to move on. Yusaku begged him for it, before he dueled with the Wind Ignis. Begged him to move on, to _live_ , just as he was trying to do now. He had begged him for it even in their last duel, on top of the Tower of Hanoi. Screaming that he would _save him_ , like it was that easy.

But Ryoken wasn't quite sure _how_. How can you move on from something that consumed you, every waking moment of every waking day? How can you suddenly - suddenly not _care_ , just let it _be_?

Chasing after and annihilating the Ignis had been his goal for years. It had been his father's final wishes, the thing his father had _died for_ , and what he had spent every waking moment of the last three years attempting to complete. He was somehow suddenly supposed to just give up? Just accept that things were not what he had believed them to be, and let it go?

Even more than that, though, was how could someone - anyone - forgive him? Yusaku was - Yusaku was a special case, Ryoken would tell himself. He clung to those words that his younger self had told him day in and day out, thinking of him as no short of a savior despite being the very person to lead him to Hell. How could someone like Homura, like Kusanagi and his younger brother, forgive him for leading them down this path? For leading them into six months of torture, a lifetime of trauma and pain?

He could not forgive himself; thus, it was unreasonable to expect others to grant him that same forgiveness.

Nor _should_ they, Ryoken believed. He was not worthy of forgiveness. He had caused so much harm, so much hurt - and for what? For a bunch of AI with free will that he must now track down and systematically kill? No, there was too much to forgive him for. And there was too much he needed to do, still. The ever growing list of guilt and atrocities Ryoken had committed would only grow as time went on.

Forgiveness, Ryoken believed, was not something to dwell on.

* * *

He was beginning to get desperate. Blood Shepherd had gone off on his own, despite Ryoken's words, and failed. Even more so than that, all of them - both the Knights of Hanoi and Playmaker's entourage - seemed to be at the beck and call of the Light Ignis' whims; nobody having any idea of where he stayed or where he went afterwards.

It was draining every last bit of his patience, playing this game of cat and mouse.

Spectre had asked, the other day, what his plans were, and Ryoken hadn't given him an answer. It wasn't that he hadn't a single thought about what they could do to stop the Light Ignis, no. It was that the idea that came to mind was one that Ryoken wasn't sure he was willing to tolerate.

Working with Playmaker was something that Ryoken considered completely off limits. His own personal feelings aside, he wasn't sure if his entire group would even agree. He knew without a doubt Playmaker himself would, possibly Kusanagi as well, but Homura? Ghost Girl? Blue Maiden?

Unreasonable. It was an unreasonable request, but both he and Spectre knew they were all running out of options. Ryoken thought of Homura, thought of what he had done to both Ghost Girl and Blue Maiden; to Kusanagi's brother.

"They do not have to like you to work with you, you know," Spectre said one day, not unkindly.

Ryoken did not respond.

"If you refuse to work with him, why did you give him the program we developed?" He continued, eyeing him carefully.

"Because he needed it," Ryoken replied, just as carefully. Spectre just sighed, leaving the small computer room and Ryoken to his thoughts.

It wasn't that he hated seeing Yusaku. In fact, he found himself thinking quite the opposite - which was the problem. The gnawing guilt he faced every time he wanted to _smile_ in the other boy's presence was immeasurable. Added to the fact that Soulburner, especially, would likely never be okay with working with him…

Ryoken sighed. He knew that if he were to go through with this, it would likely boil down to telling Soulburner whatever he asked about himself. His identity, his mission, they were all forfeit.

But he supposed it didn't matter. It was this, or they all died. He could deal with everything else once he had secured their survival.

* * *

Soulburner was angry, completely and justifiably angry, and it was Ryoken's worst nightmare come true. He wasn't quite sure how he had let himself come to this; call out to Playmaker's group and request this truce, but now he wished he could take it all back.

Soulburner's righteous fury - over the death of his parents, over what had happened to him - just reminded Ryoken of exactly _why_ he couldn't forgive himself. _I'm sorry_ , he wanted to say. _I'm sorry this happened to you. I'm sorry I caused this._

He had been grappling with that feeling, that lingering, all consuming guilt for some time now. It had been because of that guilt that he had reached out to Playmaker that day, that he had called the police all those weeks later, and despite hating himself for it, he couldn't let it go. That guilt had killed his father - _he_ had killed his father, and yet he still felt like he should've done more.

So when Soulburner demanded a duel, when Ryoken drew such a perfect hand…

He let it go.

He attempted to justify it to himself: he needed to work with these people. He needed them to at least be somewhat willing to work with him, and the only way he'd get Ghost Girl's coding ability working for him was showing some good-will to the people she cared about.

It's what he told himself, but Ryoken knew it was a lie.

Playmaker, unfortunately, did too.

"Soulburner, Revolver was eight years old during the Lost Incident. About the same age as us," Playmaker explained, and Revolver held the other man's stare.

He wasn't sure if he was ready for this, for this to be out in the open, but Playmaker didn't stop.

"If we survive," Revolver said, trying to direct his own narrative again, "we'll eventually have to fight each other with your Ignis on the line." He wanted to stop there, he wanted to leave it at that - but the look he saw in Playmaker's eyes made him spit out words against his will. "Can you hold down your anger until then?"

This was not what he wanted. _Hate me_ , his mind screamed. _Say no, say no_ , despite knowing that he needed this group's help to even _get_ to the point of fighting against each other again.

But that did not happen.

Instead, the next time he saw Soulburner, it was almost like the younger boy was understanding, suddenly. He didn't hold the same reverence for Ryoken as Yusaku did, but there was definitely something different about their interactions now - however brief.

It only proceeded to make Revolver sick to his stomach as they made their way to the Tower of Hanoi, Revolver hanging back with Spectre and the two newsroom idiots they had picked up on the way.

* * *

 _We believe in different futures, but by working together on this plan, we may find a new future._

Ryoken had told him that he would remember that, but he didn't expect the words to reverberate so strongly within him each night.

They had found the Light Ignis, they had found the Wind Ignis, but the plan was currently at a standstill. Spectre had -

Ryoken gulped, rolling himself over on his small, cabin bed, trying to let the gentle rocking of the boat calm him. Spectre had had lost, had been erased; his consciousness data becoming part of the Light Ignis' personal collection.

Another thing to add to the ever-growing guilt pile. Another thing to keep him awake at night, haunt him in his dreams.

Forgiveness, Yusaku had once spoke of, had never seemed so far off. That new future that even just the other day, Playmaker had reminded him of…

There was no way, Ryoken thought to himself, he could ever be a part of it. Not with what he's done.

* * *

The next few days had been hard. The loss of Spectre was one Ryoken felt deep within his soul, every time he logged out of Link VRAINS and the other Knights of Hanoi moved about the ship. He hadn't realized how used to the other man's presence he had gotten, how accustomed he had become to his help and odd kindness.

Yusaku kept pushing things forward, however, using the combined intellect of Ghost Girl and the older Kusanagi to track down the Ignises wherever they went. Before, this would have been something Ryoken could have done on his own - when the Tower of Hanoi was going, he lost, one by one, the members of Hanoi until there was only himself left. Now, though…

Now, the guilt was eating him alive, and no longer could he turn it into fuel. Something had snapped within him, after his father died, and Ryoken wasn't sure he could ever get it back.

* * *

"Revolver," Playmaker approached him one day, away from the other members as they sat around, waiting for the scan to finish. He didn't even bother looking at the younger boy, instead continuing to stare at the oddly colored sky in Link VRAINS.

"Playmaker." His voice was toneless, and Ryoken wasn't even sure he recognized it.

"We will get Spectre back. He's not gone forever."

Ryoken didn't respond. He didn't want to hear this right now - maybe not ever. Not until everything was dealt with, at the very least. If he talked about it… if he let his guard down, let himself talk about what happened, he would surely drown.

The mission was more important, anyway. Spectre had told him as much and he would be damned if he didn't complete it after everything he had sacrificed. The human race was worth it, was something his father would tell him back when he was younger. It was worth finding a way to live forever, it was worth killing those rogue tools to make sure they wouldn't kill _them_ first.

"Revolver," Playmaker tried again. "You don't have to," he trailed off, stepping closer to him with purpose. "I told you once I would save you, just like you saved me. I meant that."

A long pause, and then, "I will keep that in mind." It was the politest dismissal he could form, at the moment, and Playmaker seemed to get the hint. He moved away from Revolver, green eyes never wavering from his face.

"I'm," he struggled with the words, the Dark Ignis wisely keeping quiet for once. "I'm here if you need me."

To this, Revolver said nothing, and Playmaker finally turned away, moving back to the other members of the rag-tag group, the Dark Ignis speaking to him in hushed tones.

 _What a joke_.

* * *

The idea of forgiveness seemed more and more foreign as the situation continued on. Left and right, comrades were hurt, people were lost to the Light Ignis and Wind Ignis' cruel desires. But still, Ryoken pressed on, not caring anymore what happened. What was another person, another existence, for the sake of the mission? What was committing another atrocity, adding another crime to the pile inside his mind?

Ryoken told himself this, no matter how many sleepless nights he had. No matter how many nightmares he awoke from with a start, sweat dripping down his neck as the screams echoed in his ears.

He would not forgive the Ignis for what they had done. He would not let go, as Playmaker so desperately wanted him to, of his drive for revenge. He needed to see this through - it was all he left.

* * *

They were almost there, had almost reached the end goal. The Wind Ignis had become incapacitated, and all that was left was the Light Ignis.

Vaguely, Ryoken wondered what he would do once it was over. He knew he had the other Ignis that dispose of, but after that…

He had never really thought about what he would do, once his mission was complete. He had never gotten this far, inside his head - would he atone for his crimes, by sending himself to be tried? Would he run off, live in isolation, content to wither away on his own, never having to harm someone else again?

He knew what Playmaker pushed for - what he had been constantly pushing for, as the final battle drew closer.

Ryoken nearly scoffed, even by himself as he prepared. A future where he could live, like a normal person…

It was almost laughable.

* * *

That night, he dreamed of it.

Living in a spacious apartment, somewhere he could see the ocean, but not _too_ far from the heart of Den City. He wore a simple band on his ring finger, a matching one set on Yusaku's, a cat curled up in between them as they sat huddled on the couch, sushi spread out on the living table before them. There was a blanket draped over their laps, and despite how frosty it looked out the balcony window, the two of them remained comfortably warm, just enjoying each other's presence.

Ryoken woke up that morning, feeling sicker than the nightmares had ever made him.

A dream it was - an unattainable dream. Someone like him could never know such a peaceful life, he reminded himself. Such a life wasn't possible, and the clear part about Yusaku being the one by his side…

Throughout the day, he forcefully ignored Playmaker to the best of his ability.

* * *

Vaguely, Ryoken wondered what would have happened if he hadn't been born to Kiyoshi Kogami; instead living a normal, average life. He met Yusaku when he was a child by pure chance - would they have become friends, the normal way? Would they have grown up together, laughing and playing Duel Monsters, excitedly going into Link VRAINS for the first time together?

School had never been on Ryoken's radar, but he wondered if he would've liked it, would've made friends and joined the Duel Club. He had never been a very social person, was always a quiet child, but he wondered how much of that was nature versus nurture.

These kinds of thoughts didn't plague him normally, but riding his D Board into what was to be the final match against the Light Ignis had his brain going haywire. His dreams last night were proof of that.

There was part of him - a growing part of him, that he wanted nothing more than to ignore - that wondered if after this, he should throw away the rest of his mission and try to find a new path, like Playmaker had said. His sins were too great, he had reminded himself that morning, but the truth was that Ryoken hadn't thought at all about what would become of him after this battle.

He shook his head, falling farther back away from the group on his D Board. These thoughts had been echoing constantly lately; had led to his... Unfortunate dreams, the night before. He needed to focus, needed to wipe these thoughts out of mind.

There was no point, he told himself, anyways. None of them were even guaranteed to survive.

* * *

The Light Ignis may have been defeated, but the guilt inside of Ryoken continued to grow.

Spectre had told him that he held no hard feelings; that it wasn't even Ryoken's fault, but that didn't matter. He had let someone _die_ , again, because of his carelessness.

Yusaku had been asking to meet with him for weeks, since the defeat of the Light Ignis, but Ryoken had been steadfast in his refusal. He needed to regroup, he would tell the boy, or just offer no explanation at all. It's not that he didn't want to see him - part of Ryoken did want to, desperately - but it was that he _couldn't_.

He couldn't forget the way Soulburner had looked at him during the final battle; the realization that now they were on opposite sides again, the realization of what he had _done_ , his father's sins that he must now pay for. Ghost Girl's _we haven't forgotten what you did to us, you know_ lingered harder than Playmaker's _we can find a new future_ ever could, ever would.

The regrouping excuse hadn't been a lie, by any means, but it was the last thing on Ryoken's mind as he finally docked his boat by his old mansion. The rest of the Knights were to go shopping for supplies, and he was to…

Well, Ryoken wasn't quite sure what he was there to do. His father had died here, but his body no longer remained. Ryoken had lived here for the majority of his life, but there were very few sentimental feelings he held about the place. He did not know familial love the way that other children might have, he did not know playtime and easy Sunday mornings, staring out at the beautiful ocean.

His father had not been cruel to him, but he was a busy man; too focused on his mission, his obsession and passion for immortality. Oh, they did have some nice moments together - normal moments that, when he was younger, Ryoken clung onto desperately. But his mother had passed so early on that he could not remember what his family was like before his father's obsession struck hold.

Despite everything, he had loved his father. He had wanted to believe his experiments had been for the greater good, that he was doing something _just_. Now, after everything… After seeing Soulburner scream in agony at the thought of not having an outlet; after hearing how _time hadn't moved_ for Yusaku; after witnessing Jin's brother, likely never to recover, sitting against a hospital bed shaking…

He took a deep breath before making the climb all the way up to the top of the hill.

* * *

In all honesty, he shouldn't have been surprised to see Yusaku standing there on the balcony, looking out at Stardust Road. _Of course_ tonight, of all nights, would be one where it was visible. _Of course_.

He almost turned back around to leave when Yusaku called out to him, with a simple "wait".

Ryoken didn't look at the other boy, instead choosing to stand facing away from the sparkling sea. It was a beautiful sight, but not one that he could stomach right now, with Yusaku. "Playmaker," he greeted, attempting to be amicable despite the situation. "Why are you here."

It wasn't phrased quite as a question, but more like a demand, though that didn't seem to bother Yusaku.

"I thought you'd come here tonight when I saw your boat dock," he nodded vaguely in the direction of the docks, "and I've been wanting to talk to you."

Stiffening, Ryoken continued to bore holes into the glass door. "I do not wish to speak to you, right now. I wish to be alone." Slowly, slowly, he turned around, meeting Yusaku's too-green eyes.

Again, his words were much more of a command than a request, but again, Yusaku didn't seem bothered.

"I want you to stop," Yusaku told him, point blank, out right ignoring his previous words. "I want you to _listen_." Ryoken said nothing, instead looking away from the other boy, but Yusaku pressed on. "Revolver- _Ryoken_ ," he said his real name with force. "I was stuck for so long, but you alone-"

"I am not your savior," Ryoken snapped, not wanting to hear this, right now. "I know you've built me up in your mind in this manner, but I have no desire to fulfill your wishes. I would like you to leave, now."

His words were harsh but they held no bite, and Yusaku knew it, leveling his stare with ease. "Please," Yusaku outstretched his hand towards Ryoken, now pleading. "Please, stop this. You deserve to move on, too. It's not easy, but-"

The words felt like a whip. "I don't deserve anything," he snarled, turning away from Yusaku's too-green eyes, his sad face. It was more than he could take. "I caused - I caused _all of this_. I caused his _death_ ," his voice broke, thinking of his father. "I caused you to be _tortured_ for six months, directly. You and six other people, one of which is now _dead_!"

With each word, Ryoken's voice raised, but Yusaku stood there impassively. He knew - he knew how this felt. He knew how hard it was to forgive yourself, to move on past these consuming feelings and scenarios. Yusaku was still learning himself, day in and day out. But we would not give up on Ryoken.

Not just because he was His Voice, but because he _mattered_. He was a person, and he mattered. And nobody deserved to be stuck in that darkness forever.

"Ryoken," Yusaku tried again after a moment, "you once saved me from the darkness that spread across my entire life. You once climbed the chasm that I had built, and let me learn to be free again."

Ryoken turned back to stare at him, and Yusaku did his best to smile even though he felt like crying.

"And I will not let you be alone in this. I want you to be free, too."

The guilt, everything, it was too much for Ryoken in that moment. Something inside of him broke at Yusaku's words, and he realized he did not want to be like his father. He did not want to be consumed forever, he wanted to _live_. He just no longer understood how. He hadn't understood how in a long, long time.

He didn't say anything for a long moment, and Yusaku didn't interrupt. Finally, after what seemed like hours, words bubbled up without him even realizing. "You once told me that we could find a new future together," Ryoken said, voice devoid of anything. His outburst - however small - had drained him in it's entirely. "Do you still... "

Nodding, Yusaku took a step forward, his hand still outstretched. "Let's learn together. We don't have to be alone, anymore."

"Even after all I've done?" Despite his words, Ryoken's eyes were on Yusaku's hand, now, as he slowly inched his own towards it. "Even after causing all this pain, all this suffering? I don't," his voice broke, "I don't know how to _exist_." The weight of the guilt had been crushing him, slowly, for a long time now. Yusaku had known it, and had tried to save him, and Ryoken…

Yusaku didn't say anything, just put his hand in Ryoken's own, tightening his grip around the other boy's smooth palm. He rubbed his thumb over the bright red tattoo, trying to convey everything he wanted to say through that motion.

He wasn't sure if it worked, if Ryoken understood, but the older boy shuddered at the touch regardless.

"Let's create a new future, this time. One where we can finally let go."

For the first time that Yusaku had ever seen, Ryoken smiled - a real, genuine smile, as tears fell freely from his eyes.

It was finally time.


End file.
